|Nina (allira_dream) wrote,|
@ 2008-09-26 13:25:00
|Entry tags:||character: mello (mihael keehl), character: near (nate rivers), fic: death note, pairing: mello/near, rating: r/nc17|
Death Note - Gamble This Night.
Title: Gamble This Night.
Fandom: Death Note.
Warnings: Watch the rating and that's it.
Summary: For one lone, amused moment, Near allowed himself the very trite, very cliché thought that Mello cared not for the outside but the inside.
Gamble This Night.
When Near was fourteen, he helped kill a human being. It was self-defense: when he had confronted agent Drake as the one that had been leaking information, with agents Ledner and Rester pointing their guns at her and more agents coming, she had gone at the one possibility she saw, deciding to take him as a hostage.
It might have worked if not for the fact that Near had known she would do that: considering his size and lack of physical prowess and her training, it would have been stupid to attempt to take Ledner or Rester.
She had grabbed him, her arm around his neck in a strong lock, not quite cutting his air supply but making it very hard to get away. Agent Drake had been remarkable capable negotiator. To stop Rester and Ledner from having the chance to shoot her, she had knelt down, covering herself with him as she started saying what he wanted.
Still, as capable as she was, Drake was one of those fooled by his appearance: she hadn't dared to press the gun against his head, he could still breathe and she hadn't made him drop the robot he was carrying. After that, Near just had to take out the knife he hid in that particular toy and he had plunged it in Drake's side.
It had been enough for her to let him go, enough for Ledner to shoot her, a single bullet right between the eyes before Drake had even been able to try and shoot. Near had bruises on his throat for days, and he had to replace most of his toys after Drake's blood had ruined them. Six agents quit in the following week and he didn't stop them at all.
Fear wasn't the way to become a leader, which was one of the reasons why morally, Near opposed Kira: Anger was fed on fear, and then anger was often misguided as courage, making people want to behave like heroes. The last thing Near had needed back then was to have to go back to review every possible agent to find people he could work with where the betrayal rates would still be on his favor.
However, the fact that the people that was left knew what he was capable off? That made the whole difference.
Mello was someone who had never cared about how he looked, in the bigger scheme of things. Near knew that he could have been a two meters, 150 kilos giant and still, Mello would have hated him all the same.
For one lone, amused moment, Near allowed himself the very trite, very cliché thought that Mello cared not for the outside but the inside. He would have hated him just the same.
When younger, yes, Mello had pressed forward that advantage on him: Mello had never kept his emotions in check and it had been oh so easy to try and get a rouse of him like that, a weakness that Near had indulged on perhaps a little to often, sometimes out of boredom, sometimes out of spite that the most brilliant mind after him could be such an idiot as to allow his emotions to cloud his better judgment.
However, Mello wasn't an idiot, and he had realized sooner than most of the other kids at Wammy that physically abusing him didn't win him anything but punishments.
Hadn't quite stopped him from walking right through the forts he had been building or kicking away his puzzles just as he was to finish them, of course, but then again, Near was one for some pettiness himself, even if it wasn't often voiced.
So years later, as unexpected as it had been to find Mello there, Near hadn't been completely surprised to find Mello inside his room at his quarters, to be shoved against the door, barely avoiding the doorknob. Mello had always been one for dramatics.
“'Dear Mello', was it?” Mello asked, sort of looming over him. The scar really did add to Mello's glare, and Near's fingertips itched to touch the scarred tissue and feel the difference.
“Was I supposed to write anything else?” Near asked, rhetorical. Mello sneered, and Near kept the sudden urge that he had chocolate on his teeth.
It didn't matter: Mello pushed away and cursed, but somehow not as tense as before. His gun remained at the back of his trousers, at least, and Near was almost certain that Mello had already burned the picture away into nothingness. Mello did believe in the symbolism of fire, after all.
Near stayed by the door, lifting a hand to play with his own hair, not moving quite just yet, trying to consider just what Mello might be thinking. It had been years since the last time he and Mello were in the same quarters, and Mello had always been one of the few people that Near had had some troubles predicting.
However, the afternoon had proved that his pettiness still worked to get a rouse at Mello and that his emotions were still running barely beneath the surface, so Near sighed, moved towards the one chair he kept on the room and pulled his leg up, curling around it.
“Should I make small talk until you make up your mind, Mello?” Near asked, perhaps a bit more vicious than what he had intended. “I'm fairly tired and I would like to sleep.”
He expected the sudden movement if not quite the strength as Mello's hand closed around his throat, pushing him against the wall, the chair tipping backwards precariously and, despite himself, Near found himself grabbing at Mello's wrist and arm with both of his hands, more out of trying to avoid falling down than actual fear of Mello chocking him.
As much as he knew that Mello would probably enjoy that, Mello wouldn't kill him until he had defeated him. That was one of the few things that Near was certain of, one of the few things that could, almost, make him feel reckless.
Mello, however, was angry, glaring again, his hand squeezing, just not quite hard enough.
“Just shut the fuck up, Near!”
And then, Mello kissed him. That, Near hadn't expected: of all the possibilities about outlets for Mello's outbursts, sexual violence had always been in the lowest esteemed percentage, which just served to remind him of Mello's often unpredictable actions.
The few seconds it had taken Near to get over the sudden surprise had been enough for Mello to push him back even more, the chair barely balanced on its back legs.
Near conceded to that, planting both feet on the floor and allowing Mello to push him up and against a wall hard. He hit the back of his head, but at the very least Mello seemed content with having him trapped against the wall, a knee between his legs because he let go of his neck, and Near had never cared much for kissing or doing anything sexual, but he finally relented at Mello's insistent tongue and fought down the sudden unreasonable queasiness at having another person's tongue inside his mouth.
Mello didn't give him the chance to move away, his hands tight on his hips even as he broke away from the kiss, instead sucking a bruise on his neck: Near thought that it would be too telling if he tried to break free, and he didn't quite care enough, if this was what Mello needed to function, to be the missing pieces that Near had realized long ago he lacked.
And even if he didn't have the strength to push Mello away, he did know how to do this. His fingers had no troubles with the laces of Mello's trousers, opening them, pushing them down just enough that he can move his hand inside despite the tightness, dragging the tips of his fingers down over Mello's belly and lower, feeling Mello's teeth on his neck.
Near half hissed, and he waited just a moment to see if Mello would decide that his touch was something he detested before he pulled his trousers just a little lower, pulling out Mello's erection and wrapping his fingers around it.
Mello shuddered, bit harder against the mouthful of Near's skin and flesh and Near hoped it wouldn't tear, didn't quite fancy going to Lidner or Giovanni to get them to stitch it for him. He hissed Mello's name, surprised a little when he felt a little grin on his skin before Mello let go, his face still against his neck, but now panting as Mello moved against his hand, pretty much rutting against him, his thigh rubbing against Near's crotch enough that Near found himself growing, slowly but steadily aroused, which was more a bother than a relief, and he hoped that Mello wasn't as kind as to want to make him come as well.
But Near had to admit that there was something he found exhilarating with having Mello like this, against him, possibly not angry. Mello didn't smell of much other than leather and chocolate, but Near still turned his head a little against his head, sniffed at his hair and then Mello was looking at him almost wary and almost kind.
This time the kiss wasn't as aggressive, and Mello just didn't shove his tongue inside for which Near was grateful. One of Mello's gloved hands moved to touch his face, his other arm wrapped around his waist so that Mello could properly move against his hand, and Near found himself moving his other arm around Mello's neck.
Mello broke the kiss again, but he kept his forehead against Near's, dark eyes just a little bit open, looking as if Mello didn't quite know if he should glare or not, looking as if he was studying Near. That look alone did more for Near's state of almost arousal than Mello's thigh rubbing against him, his cock half-hard in his jeans.
Still, Near took a slow, shuddering breath and he dug short, blunt nails on the nape of Mello's neck, his other hand moving faster on Mello's erection.
Mello shuddered, the look in his eyes changing to a full glare.
“Fuck off, Near,” Mello panted, licking at his lips. “You don't...”
But after that, Mello shuddered hard, almost as if he was having a seizure and Near had the dubious achievement of Mello's semen coating his fingers and part of his clothes.
Mello couldn't have gotten over his orgasm by the time he pulled away, as if burnt. Near himself was feeling a little unsteady, and he briefly considered undoing his jeans to masturbate, but decided against it, knowing it would seem as something else while Mello was in his room.
Instead he moved slowly to his desk, getting the tissues to clean his hand, even taking the box to offer it to Mello. His rival glared openly even as he snatched the box, muttering curse words in at least four languages, and Near barely repressed the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he went to his bed, sitting down on it, curling around a leg again as he studied Mello's thin, lean figure.
After just five minutes, Mello moved, pulling up his trousers and lacing them again. He was glancing at him as if to ask him if he wasn't going to do something about his arousal, but Near was pleased to find out that Mello, at the very least, knew him enough to know that if he had wanted to do something about it, he would have done it already.
Instead Mello searched through his pockets, digging out a chocolate tablet, pushing the foil away to take a bite as he looked at him. Near took the opportunity to do the same, wondering if Mello had realized the same thing Near had, how despite their pride, the two of them worked better together, just how strong they could be if they decided to cooperate, feeling perhaps just a little bit greedy: over the last four years, Near had realized that he had, indeed, missed the constant challenge that meant having Mello nearby. He had realized that if Mello decided not to rely so much on his feelings, if he would be just a little bit calmer, then he would be a fearsome rival and the only person that Near would ever consider as an ally.
Mello, however, just swallowed his chocolate, turning towards the door. He paused once he had opened it, looking over his shoulder..
“I won't see you again after this,” Mello added, almost as an afterthought..
Near hummed a little, thoughtful, considering Mello's words before he nodded. “Until we defeat Kira, then.”
Mello clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Whatever.”
He didn't look back as he walked out the door.